Saving The Villainous Monster From The Male Lead

"Stella."

A low, husky voice broke the silence in the small boutique, and Stella looked up to see her best friend standing in the doorway. She smiled warmly, then switched off the sewing machine and turned her chair to face him. Caelestis strode towards her with an elegance that contrasted with his serious expression, his blood red eyes fixated solely on her.

"Caelestis," she greeted, her voice soft and friendly.

Once close enough, Caelestis surprised her by kneeling. He extended his right hand, his face calm but with a hint of intensity in his gaze. "Stella," he began, his tone gentle but resolute. "Would you do me the honor of being my partner at the Crown Prince's birthday banquet?"

Stella blinked, taken aback. The image of him kneeling in front of her was both amusing and adorable, a giggle escaped her lips. Soon, her restrained giggles turned into a hearty laugh that filled the small shop, her shoulders shaking as she clutched her stomach.

Caelestis's face fell, and he frowned. "Stella, this is not a joke," he said, his voice suddenly tense. Stella's laughter faded, and she quickly composed herself, feeling a bit guilty for laughing at him. She didn't mean to offend him.

Swallowing, she tried to calm her racing heart. "I told you, Caelestis… you should go to the ball with someone more fitting. Someone like—well, someone like Eleanore Sinclair. Not me," she murmured, casting her eyes down. "I'm just an orphan, Caelestis. I'll look out of place next to you, surrounded by all those nobles."

Caelestis's brow furrowed as he listened, his expression softening. He stood and shook his head firmly, brushing some stray lint from the cuff of his finely tailored jacket. "I don't care about any of that," he replied, his voice warm but steady. "You've earned your place in society, Stella. The Emperor himself granted you a title last month. That makes you just as worthy as anyone in the court."

Stella offered a small, appreciative smile, but her hesitation remained. She rose from her chair and moved to the small parlor in the corner, where a tea tray sat on a small table. Picking up the teapot she had left warming on the stove, she placed it on the tray along with two dainty cups. She waved for Caelestis to sit, and he followed her, taking a seat on the comfortable chair across from her.

Stella poured the tea with practiced ease, adding just the right amount of sugar and milk. She knew, without needing to ask, that Caelestis preferred his tea slightly sweetened but not too strong. Years of friendship had familiarized her with his tastes, as well as his moods and habits.

"Here," she said, handing him his cup.

Caelestis took it gratefully, taking a sip of the warm tea. "You still remember how I like it," he noted with a faint smile, the warmth of the tea seeming to ease some of the tension in his expression.

"Of course I do," Stella replied with a chuckle. "After all, I wouldn't want to see you go all annoyed over a cup of tea, like you did when we first met."

A hint of amusement flickered in his eyes, but he quickly smothered it with a complaint. "Annoyed? I was not annoyed. It's just… I like things to be a certain way, these are my childhood habits," he said defensively. "That's all."

Stella rolled her eyes playfully. "Right. You're just particular, that's all," she teased, watching him with a soft smile. But her laughter faded as she noticed a shadow cross his face. His gaze had drifted away, his expression growing distant, as if recalling a memory he'd rather not relive.

Feeling a pang of sympathy, Stella looked away to give him a moment, setting her cup down and standing. She returned to her sewing machine, restarting her work, hoping the sound would distract him from his thoughts. The familiar hum of the machine filled the room, and eventually, she heard a small chuckle behind her.

"You really don't have to go back to work right now," Caelestis said, his voice lighter than before.

Stella stopped, turning around to face him, her hands resting on the machine. "You don't like talking about… the past," she observed, her tone disappointing yet understanding.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't," he admitted, casting her an appreciative glance. "It's hard for me, Stella. I trust you more than anyone, but… some things are difficult to share."

Stella offered a sympathetic smile. "That's all right. Maybe one day, when you're ready, you'll tell me about it." Her words were gentle, and though she didn't press him further, a hint of sadness lingered in her eyes. She wanted to understand him fully, but she respected his boundaries.

Caelestis looked away, avoiding her gaze. For a brief moment, an awkward silence settled between them.

Trying to lighten the mood, Stella took a deep breath and forced a bright smile. "Don't you have work to do, Caelestis?" she asked, breaking the silence. "I doubt the Duke is ever truly free from his duties."

He chuckled, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation. "I'm never free from work. But today, I wanted to see you."

Stella's cheeks flushed slightly, but she quickly turned her attention back to her sewing, busying herself with the final stitches on a gown. She reached for the royal blue fabric, lifting it carefully. It was a beautiful dress with intricate embroidery, and she knew it would make any woman feel like royalty. She walked over to a mannequin, draping the gown on it and smoothing out the fabric.

"So, you abandoned poor Victor for a day?" she teased, a grin tugging at her lips. "That poor man. I truly pity him."

Caelestis raised an eyebrow, feigning resentment. "Don't remind me. He's probably pulling his hair out right now. The duties of the estate are hard to run, but he'll manage—he always does."

He stood and joined her at the mannequin, his gaze drifting over the dress. "That's beautiful work, Stella," he remarked, his voice sincere. "You would look incredible in something like this, with your platinum hair and blue eyes."

Stella laughed, shaking her head. "It's flattering, but it's not for me. I'm just a dressmaker, remember?"

Caelestis frowned, tilting his head in curiosity. "If it's not for you, then who is it for?"

She hesitated a moment, then replied, "It's for Eleanore Sinclair."

His face immediately hardened, his brow furrowing as he drew back slightly. "Eleanore Sinclair?" he echoed, his tone filled with barely concealed disgust on hearing that name. "I can't stand that woman. Really."

Stella shot him an amused glance. "She has good taste, though."

Caelestis scoffed. "She has no taste, Stella. She's an irritating stalker, completely blinded by her ridiculous infatuation with me. That's all there is to it. She's nothing but a fool, always clinging to me with those deluded ideas." He shuddered, his revulsion clear as he thought of Eleanore's relentless attention.

Stella raised an eyebrow, amused by his reaction. "A fool with taste as good as yours, though?"

"Nonsense," Caelestis muttered, shaking his head in denial. "I'm not sure if she even has thoughts of her own, let alone taste. Everything she does is an attempt to get closer to me. I can't stand it."

Stella suppressed a smile, sensing the genuine frustration in his voice. She knew how much Caelestis hated being the center of Eleanore's obsessive attention, but something about his reaction was still endearing. She had no envy or jealousy toward Eleanore; instead, she felt a bit sorry for her. 'It must be hard,' she mused, 'to have such feelings for someone who would never return them.'

"Perhaps one day she'll realize that it's not worth her time," Stella said softly, hoping to offer some comfort.

Caelestis grunted, clearly unconvinced. "If only," he muttered under his breath, casting a regretful glance toward the gown on the mannequin which clearly would have looked much better on Stella. "Anyway, enough talk about her. I'd rather focus on spending time with you."